~ An Hour With You~


Proud and tall they stand
Looking out over their native land.
Warriors back from the hunt
Or fighting the foe
That forced them off their native land.

Vast and wide the desert lay before them
With incredible challenge
To find life giving water
And from the lashes of a storm find shelter.

Their lance held by their side
And side by side on their pony astride
They cast their eye toward the horizon ahead
And scanned the sky and the distance
Deciding not to wait but go on instead.

The ride will be hard and far
Before night begins to fall
And the night birds call
To reach camp with the fires gone out
Leaving only the char.

Straight and tall sit the braves
As they see the prairie grass wave
Knowing well the buffalo have long since gone
From the native land where once they did roam.

A different world is their fate
And never again will the old days wait
For only memories of a long ago time
Come to mind
Making sad the heart of the braves
Who are only ghosts who now ride
The native land where only prairie grass waves.

Jane Ward Smith©
May 19, 2006



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Copyright ©
William Whitaker

Music: "Golden Tears"
By: Bruce Deboer
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Used with permission.
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